Riding from opposite directions, I met John and Bill on the rails.

    Arriving back at the spot where I though I saw the high-rider, there was no one in sight. so I pushed on toward the other side of the swing-bridge that had impeded us earlier in the morning.  A mile or two down the line, along come John and Bill, who had found another spot to put-on.  They said the cell phone recovery had been a failure. By the time they got the fishing line and hook and got back to the bridge, the tide had come in and the piling was under two feet of water.

   

  

    The following day we woke up to a light but steady rain.  Ah, the Pacific Northwest, sunny and 80 degrees one day and overcast and wet the next.  Bill was staying in his motorhome across the river in Washington and decided not to join us for Sunday's ride.

    But John and I were determined to check out the other section of safely rideable track and headed off to the virtually nonexistent community of Brownsmead.  Three buildings comprised the town, an

empty grange hall, a falling down but inhabited warehouse building and a very small railway freight station which was, apparently, being restored.   It was gray and drizzling but we

headed out anyway in an attempt to ride to the big paper mill at Wauna.  Rail traffic still

runs from Portland to Wauna and services many large lumber mills along the route.

And unique to most Class I railroads, it carries entire train loads of raw logs.

The railroad freight station in Brownsmead.

    We saw few houses along the line, but there are several small communities of houseboats and a few old commercial fishing enterprises.  Those living in these isolated spots were basically friendly, but gaurded, and seemed distrustful of strangers.  One man, the exception to the rule, was all too happy to have somebody to talk to.  He had a big apple tree in his

yard of which he was very proud.   

       We had a very difficult time understanding his slurred speed and thought he may be retarded, until he pulled a card from his wallet that explained that he had a stroke five years ago and to please have patience with his disability.  He

invited us back, so perhaps we will see him again in September.

      The day grew darker and the

rain heavier as we drew nearer to

Wauna.  We could see the clouds

of  steam rising from the mill around a bend in the river a few miles ahead.  Without the sun all color was leached from the landscape, which took on the look of an old European painting.  We stopped under some overhanging trees to escape the rain where some fishermen had built a small camp.  While taking lunch, a large barge and tug passed by in the international shipping canal.

    Because of the washout and the lack of any commerce west of that point  it is doubtful the Astoria line will be opened any time soon.  The potential for another tourist run still exists as Astoria is fast becoming a tourist mecca.  However, after the failure of the highly promoted Lewis and Clark Explorer Train, it is highly unlikely the line will be opened in the near future, affording some great railbiking during the next few years.

    The rain was moderate but unrelenting, so we decided to turn back before reaching Wauna.  It was obvious to us that the tracks were clear to the mill where we had planned to turn around.  We had accomplished our goal of finding two rideable sections of track before Arne and Morgan's visit in September, and we had a great time in the process.

The Astoria Line

Page 2

At our lunch spot

we watched the shipping

headed up stream to Portland and points beyond.

At times the muted colors and the reflections in the river

looked like an old oil painting.